


The Diary/Blog of Amy Savington

by AmySavington



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Sherlock (TV) RPF
Genre: Diary, Diary/Journal, Fake Fake Fake, M/M, Not real!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-13 23:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14123454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmySavington/pseuds/AmySavington
Summary: This is my blog diary thing.





	1. Chapter 1

Dear Diary or rather dear blog I suppose.  
That’s what this is,isn’t it? A blog?   
We don't write in our diaries anymore and hide them away.   
We write blogs and share them with the world. Out there for all the world to see.   
Well alright.   
This is a blog that I'm starting to help fix things...ya know things like my actual life.  
I mean if it can work for certain telly characters then why not me then?   
And I'll just ignore any irony of it all. Is that the right word? Irony?    
The reason I'm starting this is because he called me today. He. Himself.

He called me to complain about the other himself. The stress point in our relationship.  
Wait. No that's not right.   
My therapist would want me to say Ben was just ONE of many stress points in our relationship.  
But he was one. A big thorny one with stupid cheekbones and dumb schedules and ridiclous luck.  
Well HE called me today. Martin.

Martin called to complain about Ben. He was complaining about the interview he had to today and how they brought it all up again and he had to declare that he and Ben weren't lovers. That they didn't play it as lovers and how he ranted at the poor man writing the article for a good 15 minutes before they got back on track. He complained about all the little people who kept writing their stories and deciding he was wrong. He complained until I got distracted wondering where my life went wrong along the way.

"Are you even listening, 'Manda?"

"Sorry," I said.

I wasn't sorry.

"Sorry." I repeated myself to make it sound more authentic. "You were complaining about your fans. Go on."

"Well when you say it like that I just sound like an asshole."

I said nothing to this.

"I'm NOT an asshole." he said emphatically.

I emphatically said nothing in return.

He huffed out a sigh then went on complaining.

"I just don't know why they won't let it go. Me and Ben are...."

I sucked in a breath and he heard me. I hated when he said "Me and Ben." Like they were the bloody couple and not him and me.

Though I suppose we aren't anymore.

"Sorry," he said. I could imagine the look on his face. Also his voice did that thing it does when he wants you to know he cares. He really was sorry.

"It's okay," I said.

"No, I really am. Sorry 'Manda. It's just that....you know. You're one of the only ones I can talk about this with. You're still my mate."

I am his mate. I really am. I know it. We are friends.

He's the father of my children and I love him as a friend.

He makes me laugh and I really am his mate.

I'm even happy to be his mate.

I've seen those couples that break up and can't stand the sight of each other and that's just not how it is with me and Martin. This friendship thing we got going on...it's the better way to be.

So I took a deep breath to try to hear him, try to help him.

"I know. Listen. I know it's frustrating and...well you know I know better than anyone. As your former beard--"

"Stop it."

"Just a joke. So as your former not-beard then well I have to say....it's a bit odd how upset it makes you."

"I'm not upset." He didn't yell the words as much as he said them incredibly slow and forced. Which is Martin's very not subtle way of showing he was actually quite upset.

"Right. Sure."

"I just..." He stopped speaking and sighed.

Then I pretended I heard one of the kids calling me and I hung up.

Which was wrong of me I know.

I know!

He needed someone to talk to.

But I couldn't, could I?

Am I really supposed to help my ex figure out what seems to be bloody obvious to everyone including random strangers?

I'm not a saint.

And I think even the saints would say this is pushing it a bit far.

The fact of the matter is he hurt me. Martin hurt me.

It took many months of therapy to admit that because I wanted to pretend I was so strong that it didn't hurt.

That it was all fine.

I wanted to be bloody above it all with a "conscious uncoupling" and pretend like it was okay that our relationship ended.

I wanted to pretend like what happened was fine.

But he hurt me.

He was wrong for how he left me behind, for being with others. I was wrong too. I made mistakes too, but mine were in response to his and...fucking hell he hurt me.

I can say that now.

But he is still someone I love and care for.

So as I type this up in the dead of the night I have to wonder like Carrie Bradshaw.

Is it ever possible to truly be friends with your ex?

I like to think it is possible.

But the next step is it it possible be such good friends with your ex that you'd help them land a new someone?

I don't know if that is possible.

I think to do that is admitting that your relationship is officially over and will never happen again.

Am I ready to admit that with Martin?

No more Martin and Amanda ever again?

If I'm being honest with myself I'm not quite there yet.

But I want him to be happy.

So in the morning I guess I'll send him a text and invite him around for tea and perhaps subtly suggest that perhaps he wants to stick his penis in Benedict Cumberbatch and wiggle it about.

That's tomorrow.

For now I'm going to sleep.

Right after I say a prayer to God that I don't dream about wiggling penises.

Night all!


	2. Chapter 2

Right so here's what happened when I had it stop by for tea and nibbles.

 

I had his favourite tea because I'm lovely that way.

 

I made the fish and prawn pastie thing he loved so much. Once again because I'm really lovely.

 

The kids were playing. We sat outside at the small table in the garden.

 

And I took a deep breath and spoke.

 

"Martin," I said. "I think we should talk.

 

"Oh," he said. "I....I'm sorry I don't think we should."

 

"What?" 

 

I was confused. 

 

"I just have a feeling you're going to talk about couples therapy and maybe trying to get back together and I'll always love you 'Manda, but..."

 

"No! That's not....what? No!"

 

"Oh?" He gave me this dumb look of confusion which made him look dumb and not handsome and I wanted to take his silly little ascot off and toss it to the ground for his presumptuous assholery....dick. "It's just that you got me the good tea and made the pasties."

 

"What? I was just being lovely...which is a thing I often am!"

 

He gave me a blank look. Asshole.

 

"Well," He said. "Thank....you?"

 

"Ugh!" I sat back in my chair and stared at him for a second.

 

Why was I trying to be nice to my ex again? Why was I trying to help him find a new someone?

 

He sat back too and he had this little look on his face which he did with one of the roles once. I can't recall one as they often blend together. Was it Hector or John who did the weird smile thing? I started to run through the various roles he's played and I wound around to Fargo and Lester. I remembered how they picked on poor Lester in that scene. When I watched it with him I got so upset. Poor Lester being picked on reminded me of poor little Martin being picked on. I never told him exactly why because I didn't want to bring that up and also I didn't want to face what it might mean for us then...we were already so on edge. But Martin was picked on when he was a child. From the time he was little boy up on. He never went too far into what they said or how they said it save one time where he told me about him and a friend. He and this little boy were really good friends who played with each other every day. And then one day when they were 12 Martin realised he wanted to kiss the little boy so he did one day after school. The little boy said nothing. So Martin went home thinking nothing of it. But the next day he came to school and all the teasing started. And it didn't end for years. He found a way around it in many ways, but it stayed with him. It STILL stays with him. I sighed. That's why...that's why I'm helping him.

 

I looked over at him.

 

"Martin."

 

"Hmm," he said without over at me. Just focusing out on the new flowers I just replanted.... EXPERTLY replanted and ignore anyone who said they're already dying.

 

"I....how's Ben?"

 

He turned to look at me, but I couldn't look back so I just stared at my not dying flowers instead.  I was going to do this. I didn't have to look at him while I was doing this.

 

"He's...I dunno," Martin said. "Why do you ask?"

 

I took a breath. "I think he's in love with you, Martin."

 

"What?" He kept looking at me, eyes narrowed. I kept looking at the possibly not quite alive flowers.

 

I bit my lip and soldiered on. "And I think....I think you have feelings for him."

 

I had never said this aloud before. 

I had never said this in therapy. 

I had never truly admitted it until that moment.

But it was the truth.

 

He slumped back in the chair and stared ahead. He didn't say anything for a long while. He gave a sigh. His phone chimed. Mine did as well. We both ignored them.

One minute rolled into another and another. The kids trod over my flowers. I considered yelling at them, but realised this meant I could say it was their fault the flowers died and definitely not my great gardening skills. So I smiled and remained silent...waiting. Which is very hard for me. I'm chatty. I talk. But he needed this and I needed to be the one to give it to him.

And if you want to call me a saint then...okay yeah sure you're probably right. I am a saint. A fucking super amazing fucking saint. Francis and Teresa and all those other saints...nothing like this. Super Saint Me.

 

Then he cleared his throat twice.

This is one of his many tells.

When Martin Freeman clears his throat twice it means he's about to say something important and truthful.

He sat up straight, placed his hands on the table as if ground himself, then looked at me.

 

"He's married and I'm....an old man."

 

I looked at him.

 

I didn't know what to say to that.

 

Ben is married.

Martin is old. 

Yes he's still hot, but he is old.

Saying he's old could mean a lot of things, but I think he meant that he's set in his ways and a bit scared to do things differently.

What would it even mean if things somehow worked out with them?

They both come out of the closet as what? Bi? No matter what people will call them gay and their careers....who knows.

Would Ben leave Sophie? He seems to really like having a wife.

Would Martin become the wife while Ben goes off making movies?

I get it.

It's a hard situation to figure out.

He had to leave soon after so we didn't go further into it. The kids needed things and that always takes priority. I had to go learn lines for an audition. 

And I suppose that's that for now.

**Author's Note:**

> you'll want to subscribe


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